


A drop of coffee

by WhereTheRoadsMeet



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Arguments, Beaches, Bodyguard, Coffee Shops, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Hotel Sex, Khan-voice, Light Dom/sub, Meeting the Parents, Mile High Club, Mothers-law, Pineapple juice, Safewords, Sex Toys, Tears, spa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2284206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereTheRoadsMeet/pseuds/WhereTheRoadsMeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are simply buying a cup of coffee in a small Australian cafe when an accidental meeting begins a chain of events that will change both your lives</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first drop

**Author's Note:**

> This multi-part fic was written for a dear friend of mine. She's generously allowed me to share it. I've taken her name out so we can all imagine ourselves there.

There had been whispered rumours that Benedict spent the layover week between Adelaide and Sydney surfing somewhere along the Great Ocean Road in Victoria.

You nod and smother a smug smile. The rumours were almost right, but you won’t be commenting or correcting them. You know the truth.

You sit at a table of ten women, all Cumberbabes…Cumber-fans….Cumber-women…You don’t care about the term really. The VIP tickets to the Meet and Greet had been impossible to purchase…randomly allocated it was the luck of the draw…..Mostly  
Your ticket? Well the story you were going with was that you’d had a phone-call during the week offering the last one. That much was true. The part you won’t share, can’t share, was WHY it had been you who received the call.

**One week before – Geelong, Victoria**

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” You blurt out, jostling the arm of the tall man next to you in the queue at Fuel, the force dislodging the lid of the take-away cup and the arc of coffee splashing his t-shirt.

Long dextrous fingers are plucking away the soggy fabric from skin as the liquid cooled. “It’s fine. No harm done.”

The deep voice is achingly familiar, at least to you. You’ve listened to virtually every word spoken by the coffee-coated man standing next to you. You Risk a glance upward…to confirm that you didn’t imagine it.

Yes, there he stands…like a soggy-God, in sunglasses and shorts. Benedict Cumberbatch’s features still recognisable enough under his casual disguise. It feels oddly surreal as you mentally shake yourself and take a deep breath.

“I could argue with you, but that would just waste valuable time instead of me offering a solution. My place is around thirty minutes from here, can I offer instead to give your shirt a quick rinse and get you on your way again…”pausing before adding, dropping your voice so only he can hear, “….Mr Cumberbatch?”

His eyes snap to yours, widening slightly and then around to ensure you haven’t attracted additional attention. He leans down conspiratorially and with a smile replies, “Deal…lead on. Oh, and call me Ben.”

Smiling back and tilting your head to the door, you imagine the feel of piercing eyes on your back and try not to hyperventilate as you lead the man to your car. _What am I doing? I am…..Oh..my..GOD ….taking Benedict Cumberbatch ‘back to my place’. Hold your nerve….he’s just a human being….just like anyone else…a human being I just spilled coffee all over…it’s only polite to offer to ….…wash his shirt for him._

The chirp of the remote locking identifies the red sedan and without another word, Benedict settles into the passenger seat. “Thanks for this…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch you name.”

You give it quietly, and he repeats it in his clipped British accent.

“Thanks, I’m heading down the coast to….” His nose scrunches slightly in thought, a familiar tell to those that know his work, “13th Beach. I’m not sure whether I’ll have washing facilities there.”

Keep it casual…”Nice! Surfing?”

Glancing over in surprise he responds immediately, “You know the place?”

“Yes, most of the locals do. It’s nice down there. You shouldn’t have any problems with unwanted attention.”

“Good. That’s…good.”

He looks tired, and the sigh that follows his words only adds to that impression. You know he’s probably just arrived from Adelaide after a couple of frantic days at OzComicon. 48 hours of signings, and photos and more signings. Not for the first time you wonder how he balances the non-stop bedlam of his life with the need for solitude.

Spontaneously, you pull off to the side of the road, making a snap decision, possibly the best or worst of your life. You turn off the key in the lock and take a deep breath, turning to face him in the chair.

“Look, Benedict….”

“Ben….” You have his attention now, he’s alert but not alarmed.

You smile, “Ben…. I may be out of line here, and PLEASE tell me to shut the hell up if I am. You look exhausted. Your public commitments must take so much out of you. I have no idea what your plans are for the next week, or where you’re staying. But if you’re staying at anywhere other than a friend’s house, I’d like to offer mine as an alternate. I can’t pretend it’s four-star, but it’s quiet, it’s private…and you’ll be left alone.”

You watch as his shoulders visibly drop in relief. He smiles and shakes his head in wonder, “You know….the generosity and kindness of my fans amaze me.” He pauses, “I assume you’re a fan…and not just a random person who pulled my name out of thin air?”

You nod, waiting.

“Your offer is so honest, so caring..but I can’t possibly..”

You interrupt, “You really can….In fact, you should..The real question…..” You pause, putting emphasis on his name, “..Ben, is will you accept?”

He laughs for the first time, open and relaxed, and raises his hands in mock defeat, “You’re tough…I know when I’m beaten. How about this, let me take you up on your offer of a clean shirt, I’ll make a few calls and then we can take it from there. Sound fair.”

“Fair.” You extend a hand to shake and then find yourself entranced at the way your hand is swallowed up within his. His presence in the car was palpable and although you’re working hard to ‘Play it cool’ internally, you’re still shaking.

Starting the car again, you drove the remaining ten minutes to your home, pulling into the drive and then into the garage. Unlocking the door adjoining the garage to the house, you hold the door open, briefly hoping that you left it as tidy as you remember.

“I know it’s probably not what you’re used to…but it’s mine, and it’s comfortable, sometimes that’s what matters.”

“I couldn’t agree more. There’s a certain something about…home, that you can’t replace.” He looks down as two cats approach warily before winding themselves around his legs. “Oh, cats.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that a problem?”

“No…It says a lot about people, that they have pets.” He leans down before stilling, “Do they mind being picked up?”

“Go for the grey one, she’ll be yours forever.”

He settles for a scratch behind the ears, “I’ve always thought there’s something very self-assured about felines. They know what they want and aren’t afraid to ask.” He looks up at you thoughtfully, “I like that.”

You blush _He can’t have meant…..Is Benedict Cumberbatch flirting with me?_ Breaking the sudden awkwardness you exclaim “Coffee? To replace the one I dumped on the floor?”

“Please.”

You cheekily extend a hand palm up and he looks at it confused.

“Shirt…” Your fingers wiggle expectantly.

The laugh is bright and relaxed, “Surely you’ll buy me dinner first?”

 _OK…THAT was flirting..So help me…that was flirting..well, two can play at that game_ , “Nah, wouldn’t want a full stomach to slow you down.”

His eyes widen slightly, and unless you’re mistaken, dilate slightly.

_Oh….we like to play, do we?….right…Game on then, Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch_

You step forward and gently grasp the bottom of his T-shirt with both hands. Looking up to lock eyes, there’s an unspoken question…almost a demand in your features and he hasn’t missed it.

He stares back fearlessly and lifts his hands over his head and then laughs as you lift the fabric, only to be stalled in your effort to rid him of it by his height. You lift to your toes but it’s no use, your arms are stretched along his, his face obscured by the fabric between you.

He’s laughing properly now, and you join him, giggling as you lean against him and struggle, trying to leverage a few extra precious inches as he does NOTHING to help. You relocate your grip further down and manage to pull the shirt over his head when he suddenly lowers both arms, trapping you between the material, still bunched on his arms, and his chest. The laughing abruptly stills as your eyes reconnect.

“Well…” He rumbles, “This is nice.”

Your head is spinning and you desperately try to respond with something witty, something that will portray you as an intelligent, self-assured professional woman. What you manage however is, “Eeerrrpp.”

Fortunately, it seems to be exactly what’s needed in this tension-filled moment as he leans his forehead down to yours, snorts and shakes his head, the chuckling returned.

“Oh, it feels good to laugh. You have no idea. I think this is the most fun I’ve had for months, it’s like I’m alight from the inside.” His eyes sparkle as he gathers you closer to him, still trapped by his shirt, “I seem to have stumbled upon something rather special in that coffee shop. Very special indeed I suspect.”

You hang on the words, adrift but floating. You know where this is leading, you’re not naïve. You’re being seduced, and you still can’t quite believe this is happening. But you’re also not an idiot and whatever miracle has led this man to your house, to your arms you’ll keep him safe, and warm, and you won’t look back. You’re all in.

You raise a hand to his cheek, and it’s slightly shaking but that’s fine, it rests there momentarily before you push it up and into the curls behind his ear. You guide his lips down to yours and that serves as an answer better than words.

There’s movement at your back and through the fog in your head, you realise he’s shaking his hands to dislodge his arms from the fabric before he circles them around your shoulders, confining you against him as he takes the lead in the kiss. Forceful but not harsh, his touch expresses what he wants without demanding it, seemingly pointing down a path and asking you to joyfully join him. You do…of course you…You’d follow this man anywhere…anywhere at all.

He mutters against your lips, “Where?”

You reply quickly, “Anywhere” without processing what he means.

The smile is wide against your lips and he lifts his head away briefly as he strokes your cheek and laughs again and _God…you could become addicted to that sound_ , ”Special….so special. God you’re gorgeous.” You blush, finally realising what he asked, and how your answer sounded out of context.

You take his hand and lead him down the hall to your room. There’s no hesitation in the doorway, you both know why you’re here.

As he captures your lips again, this time with more obvious purpose, you allow yourself to run your hands up the almost perfect skin of his back, dipping into the valley between ribs and spine, fascinated by the dimples on either side just above the waist of his shorts. You can’t see his back yet, but that won’t stop you memorising every touch.

You kick the door closed; feline houseguests relegated to the rest of the house and lay a hand on his bare chest. You can feel the heart thudding under his sternum, strong and constant as its owner. He covers your hand with his own and whispers, “OK?”

Your mouth tightens a little, it’s just nerves not reservations but he’s seen it and reacts, gathering you to him in a gentle hug.

He murmurs in your ear, “It’s OK….Shhhh, it’s OK. We’re moving fast, I know. It’s fast for me too. What about we slow things down. I’ll be here for a while, let’s…..just take a deep breath and relax a bit.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and it feels good, if a little bit hysterical. “Oh God, Ben. How can I want you so badly and at the same time want to go and hide under a table? How does that make any sense? I’m being an idiot.

His palm strokes your hair softly and you feel a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “Would it help to know I’d be tempted to join you hiding under the table?”

You look up, the spirit and cheekiness returning to your voice, “Well, how would that help? That would defeat the purpose of hiding from you.”

He theatrically slaps his palm against his forehead in mock realisation, “You’re right…Looks like the table is out.”

“Completely impractical.” You take a step back, but the mood remains warm and comfortable. “C’mon, I owe you a coffee….and we appear to have neglected that shirt of yours entirely.”

@@@

Hours later, you’re sitting together on the couch talking like old friends, a glass of wine in each of your hands. He’s regaling you with sordid gossip from the entertainment industry, which he informs you is a _delightful cesspit of aberrant behaviour_ and you’re implying that he’s probably the instigator of the worst offences.

In return, you share some of the ‘tall tales’ that Australian’s tell overseas tourists. Drop Bears, Hoop Snakes, Carrion Birds and bunyips….you spare him nothing. By the end, you’re both clutching your ribs with laughter.

It feels like he’s been part of your life for years instead of hours and you can tell by the comfortable way he’s slouched amongst the cushions that he feel similarly at home.

Suddenly, he glances at the window and his eyes widen, dipping to his watch. “Fuck, I was supposed to make a few calls.” He looks at you, the cheeky, smouldering gaze is back, “Someone distracted me.”

You smile back easily, “My pleasure.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, “Really? I didn’t think we’d gotten to that bit yet.”

You cough on a mouthful of wine, and place the glass down to avoid spilling what remains. You notice distantly that it now sits next to three empty bottles _When did that happen?_

He stands, reasonably steadily for someone who’s drunk his share of the alcohol, “Look, I’m just going to say this, because the answer is obvious. I’m going to…”he gestures with his phone, “….make a few calls and then…..stay here the rest of the week….If…” he looks down at you on the couch, “…you’ll have me?”

You look back up, the wine warming you and removing what little verbal censoring you have left, “Oh honey…” you add your best hooded gaze, “…I’ll have you.”

His look becomes intense for a moment before he laughs again, open and honest, collapsing back onto the couch and enfolding you in his arms, laying kisses on your lips and cheeks. You had no idea seduction could be such childish fun and you want it to go on forever.

He retrieves his phone from where he’s dropped it by your side and methodically dials, holding it to his ear as it rings though.  
You catch snippets of _alternate arrangements_ and _No, I’m fine, I’m good,_ and _I’ll ring Friday and let you know where to send the car._ Then, he dramatically tosses the phone half way across the room muttering, “That’s gotten rid of them” before re-establishing his invasion of your mouth.

You’re light-headed, and feeling a little brave. You have this amazing man with you for the week and Damn it if you aren’t going to have a go at every fantasy you’ve ever had about him. You manage to find a sliver of space between your mouths to murmur, “Want you.”

“That’s very good news. Otherwise it’s going to be a long week for me.”

 _Should I push my luck?_ “Can I ask?...No…you’ll think it’s weird…”

He buries his head in your neck and with a voice rich with humour you hear, “If you ask me to use my Sherlock voice….I’ll spank you.”

You snort….and tangle your fingers in his hair, “No….I much prefer the authentic Benedict, thanks very much.”

He lifts his head, those miraculous eyes twinkling in the waning light, “Then what?”

You glance across the room, your eyes falling on a large blood red recliner. It bears a striking resemblance to one used in a photo shoot several years ago and has fuelled fantasies ever since. He follows your gaze and smiles, “Oh….you naughty girl.” He nips at your collarbone, “have you imagined me in that chair?”

You worry at your lip and nod, blushing.

“Challenge accepted.” He huffs, “Bet I can beat anything you’ve thought up.” He unfolds himself from the couch and offers you his hand.

You stand and lead him forward, pausing in front of the chair. You feel him step behind you and wrap his arms around your chest, his head on your shoulder. He's so close you can feel his breath on your ear and his obvious interest pressing against the small of your back. It's the first time you've felt the physical evidence and you moan and lean your head against his.

He whispers, "This is your fantasy....show me what you want. Take the lead, I'll follow you. As long as we're both here, I have what I want"

You shiver; you hadn't expected him to relinquish control and you find the idea astonishingly erotic. You're not exactly used to being in control in the bedroom, used to asking for what you want so directly. You blush and turn in his arms.

Shyly, almost too quiet to hear, you whisper, "Can you undress me? Will you tell me I'm beautiful? Will you, make me feel it?"

"Oh yes....that's just the beginning of what I can do for you. I thought you'd ask me something difficult." He's trying to keep the mood light, but failing. He's crowding over you, his hands fisted at his sides, waiting for permission to touch. You grant it by raising his hands to the buttons on your shirt and feel yourself trembling as he releases them one by one. His lips follow his fingers, licking and sucking each piece of exposed skin. It feels like it takes days as you become lost in the sensation. He's mumbling words as he goes but you can't make sense of them, only the tone of reverence and joy. You feel his fingers at the button of your jeans and you drag enough thought together to tentatively unhook the button on his. There's a shared pause before you glance at each other's faces and gently push each other's pants to the floor, kicking them away.

The move leaves you both in your underwear. You're still in your bra, and both your pants are still in place. It's enough for now. You think he's starting to resemble a coiled spring and you want to trigger it. To see what will happen if all that energy is released, all at once.

You turn the both of you around, so his back is to the chair and push him backward until he tumbles heavily onto the leather, a breath leaving him turning to chuckles as you boldly crawl after him, settling with your knees straddling his thighs, sitting in his lap. The move brings your heads level and you grin widely before kissing him soundly.

He's breathing a little ragged, the effort of allowing you to set the pace is clearly costing him, but he seems strangely even more aroused by handing over control. He huffs, "So, is this how it goes..in your dream...me here, you astride me?"

"Sometimes."

"Oh," he leans to nibble at your neck, "so I'm here often?"

"A bit." You answer cheekily, circling your hips in his lap.

"And...." He thrusts upward, the friction causing delightful sparks to bloom behind your eyelids, "Do I....meet expectations?"

"Every...time." You're rocking shamelessly now. Lost in a dream become real.

He leans into your ear and manages some sanity amongst what's happening, "I don't want to spoil the mood.....Do we...need condoms...in your dream?"

You pause briefly, Of course, you should have considered....and your estimation of him rises impossibly, slightly higher. "I'm safe, and clean.....but if you'd prefer...." you trail off, unused to this conversation.

He sighs in relief, "I'm fine. I'm tested regularly.." He's kissing your neck again, roaming along your collarbones and then back, "it's pretty standard in my industry....to be sure everyone is safe, and I trust you."

"Trust is good..." you tilt your hips, adding more downward pressure. "Trust is very good."

"So..." His voice is rough, and deeper than you've heard it all day, "...does this fantasy need these remaining clothes?"

"No...they usually disappear around now."

"Then allow me...." the clasp on your bra falls free and he is simultaneously tonguing at your nipples while worrying at your pants. You gasp, then giggle, then gasp again. His tightly reined control is slipping and he's becoming more demanding as minutes pass.

"You.... can't get my pants off like that.." You giggle and push away, trying to help.

"Don't care...." His voice is muffled as his lips are pressed against available skin.

"Yes you do. Let me up."

He grunts in disappointment, clasping you to him and rubbing up firmly before letting you go and stating with mock authority "You have 15 seconds....make them count."

You scrabble from his lap and without ceremony, drop your pants to the floor, unashamed to be naked before him. He pushes his own down his legs and off his ankles before surging off the chair, grabbing you and twisting you around, pushing you onto the red leather and kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"What happened to ' _Whatever I want?'_ " you squeak

"Time to write my own script." He kisses your knee and lifts your leg over his shoulder. The other joins it a moment later. He catches your eye, "OK?"

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to speak as you watch him lick his beautiful lips as his eyes sparkle wickedly. You can feel his strong hands around your thighs before all other sensation is wiped away by what he's doing with his mouth.

You once had a friend who told you that ' _A woman KNOWS if her man enjoys going down on her_ '. You'd laughed along and privately thought she was full of shit. You'd never gotten the impression that men viewed oral sex anything but a chore. But you now know you were wrong...so very, very wrong. There is an obsessive delight in the way you are being touched, stroked and licked. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was more about his enjoyment than yours. That was the last coherent thought before you were lost to sensation and pleasure. You're distantly aware that your head has fallen back against the chair and you're whimpering and moaning and shouting his name as your thighs tighten on his shoulders as your fingers card and clasp through his hair.

You slump in the chair, shaking as you feel him leisurely working his way up your body, seemingly entranced at exploring each inch of your flushed skin. You feel his erection nudge against your thigh and then hip as he methodically maps your body. Your skin is sensitive and every touch is magnified and the feel of stubble against your cheek as he settles against you in the chair, a strong but comfortable weight.

"Have I killed you?"

"MmmHmm, but good dead."

He kisses you deeply, and you can feel his cheeks rise in a smile as you moan against the fresh onslaught, "I think there's a bit of life left yet. Hold on.."

That's all the warning you get before he circles his arms around you and manages to turn you both, settling his arse back in the chair and you back in his lap.

You look into his eyes, and you swear you could live in this moment. This singular moment when he's yours..totally yours. You place your hands on each side of his face and hold his gaze, hoping you're telling him with this look that you're his, and you always have been. You pivot up on your knees, tilting forward before lowing yourself down the plane of his stomach and onto his straining erection, trusting that the angle, the desire and the magic of this impossible moment will make everything just...work.

It does, and there is a perfect moment when he room stills and you both hold motionless, revelling in the feeling of being connected to another human being in the most intimate of ways. But he's been patient long enough, and his body is beginning to rebel. The roll of his hips becomes gentle ebb and flow upward, and in turn it becomes a more forceful thrusting. As your muscles recover from your orgasm, you begin to join him, keeping pace and in his chase for bliss. His long, nimble fingers snake down between you and add another layer of sensation and you know that for the 2nd time today this man, this unbelievable man is going to push you over the precipice and this time, he'll be right there with you.

His movements begin to lose co-ordination and you know he's close, you wind fingers into his hair and through panted breaths, you take his bottom lip in yours, sucking and kissing and he's suddenly arching under you and his pleasure brings yours, moans lost in each other's mouths as you lay shuddering and shaking in each other's arms. You think you can feel tears on your cheek but you don't know if they're yours or his, but they're perfect.

You lay there together until the cool air on your back makes you shiver and he suggests quietly that perhaps a shower and bed might be a pleasant next step for the day.

You couldn't agree more......if you could just summon the energy to move.

Maybe tomorrow.


	2. Standing up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their first night together. An unpleasant interaction at a shopping centre leads to gallantry

You slip out of bed early the following morning, with plans to nip down the shops for supplies. You hadn't intended to be _entertaining_ a guest this week and the loaf of bread, box of cereal, milk and tinned meals fell well short of the sort of catering you'd like to offer the man still sleeping in your bed.

Just getting ready to grab your bag and head out the door, you jump a little at his deep voice from beyond your cracked open bedroom door.

"Are you running away?" There's humour there, but a little uncertainly. You backtrack and push the door open.

You have the delightful opportunity to add another 'Batch' to your list...Bed-ruffled-Batch. He's sitting up, naked to the waist (and beyond as you well know) and trying to tame curls that have clearly woken with more energy than most have at this time of the morning. He's.....adorable.

"Stay there, I'm just popping down the shops for essentials."

He looks at you, fully-dressed, then down at himself, "Give me five. I'd like to come if I'm invited?"

"Of course! But..." You pause as he launches himself out of bed, fearless in his nudity and smoothing his unruly hair as he bolts past you to the bathroom. You drag your scrambled thoughts together just fast enough to slap him on the arse as he passes, "....you may be seen."

You hear the shower start and his baritone echoes in the confined space, "I'm not interested in being a captive to my own life. I can't....I won't be held hostage by my own fame." The water shuts off and he emerges, using one hand to towel off his hair and the other to briskly dry himself. You get the impression he's an old hand at speed-showers.

"Of course, I just thought..."

He stops in front of you and turns around, inches from your face. He looks concerned, "Thought what?"

"I'm well known in Geelong.....people could ask..."

"Are you worried I might be seen...or worried about me being seen with you?"

You drop your head. He places a gentle finger under your chin and tilts it back up.

"Honesty this week..OK?" he asks.

"I just don't want.....I'm nobody and you're....you're.."

He smiles down, the concern drifting away, "What I 'AM' is very, very lucky to be here with you. Now, I HOPE the media don't get wind that I'm here, but I'm not going to hide. We'll handle whatever happens. OK?"

You nod, still not smiling. He leans down to kiss you on the forehead, then both cheeks then lingering on your lips, he repeats, more forcefully, "OK?"

This time, the nod is genuine. "OK. But the media will probably show less interest if you put some clothes on."

"Think so."

You tap a single finger against your chin, step back and take a long appraising look as he stands before you in all his naked glory, "Well I guarantee you'll draw attention if you go like that."

@@@@

An hour later, you're wandering down crowded supermarket aisles, adding more than you really need to, but the game of I _want chicken.....well, I want beef_ has turned into something of a childish competition and for every item one of you throws into the trolley, another different flavour, brand or size is added by the other. You're getting some odd looks but it's not about who you're with, it's the volume of the giggling you're both managing to stifle unsuccessfully.

You pause in front of the juice and Benedict adds a container of pulp-free orange. You hesitate before grabbing the juice with pulp and instead allow your hand to wander to the pineapple juice. You wiggle your fingers in front of the bottle and glance at your partner wondering if he'll get the reference.

He does, you can see it on his face. His mouth falls slightly open and his eyes widen and dilate even in the harsh store lighting. You grin at him as you lean in and whisper, "I've heard......", his arm snakes around your waist, "...that pineapple juice makes ALL KINDS of things sweeter."

He whispers back and adds in mock astonishment, "Really?....What KINDS of things?"

He pulls you to him, and you slot comfortably at his side, "Well....." your mouth at his ear, "....mainly...things you....." you nibble on his earlobe, ".....suck."

He turns slightly in your arms so you can feel his response to your taunting pressing against your hip, "You're trouble....the best kind..but still..."

"Goodness, I didn't think I'd run into you here?" A voice from down the aisle interrupts what has become an impromptu foreplay session.

"Damn" you mutter, creating a more appropriate gap between you both and pushing Ben gently behind you, "Sue! How are you?" You step forward to embrace her.

"I'm fine. And who's this you're shopping with?"

"Oh, sorry Sue. Sue this is....."

He steps forward without hesitation, "Ben." He flashes Sue his very best, I _have no idea who you are but you might be important_ smile and holds out his hand for her to shake, "How do you know this lovely lady?"

"I'm her mother-in-law" she says flatly.

You wince, Of all the ways this topic could have arisen, this is probably the lowest on your list.

You can see Ben flinch, and then reassert his media face, "Mother..in.."

"EX..." you interject bitterly,"...EX..Mother-in-law."

"Oh yes," She chirps gaily, "I suppose that's more...correct, isn't it?"

Ben turns to you and you expect to see hurt, betrayal, something that will signal the end of what has started so brilliantly. Instead, he winks at you out of Sue's view and mouths, "I've got this." very clearly at you. You let out the breath you hadn't realised you were holding.

"I hadn't realised she'd had been married before." He starts carefully after recapturing Sue's focus.

She tries to smile back winningly, but now you know he isn't buying what she's selling, "Oh yes...for YEARS."

"I assume it must have been a tragic accident that took him from you both?" He looks to you both seemingly grief-stricken.

She looks stunned, "What? No...no..they separated."

The look of surprise must be straight out of acting school as he turns slowly from her to you and says very clearly, "What did he DO to make you leave him?"

Sue coughs and you can almost see the pieces falling into place, "I'm sorry Ben...but HE left HER."

His mouth has fallen open in a dramatic 'O' of disbelief and he looks from you, to Sue and then back to you, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..just give me a moment." He drop his head. If he hadn't warned you, the tears would be flowing. His performance is brilliant and you blush knowing it's for you.

"Sue steps forward and lays a hand on his arm, "I know Ben...it's a shock. She's obviously been keeping secrets from you."

You see the curl of a lip even with his head down, and you think, you have her now.

His head lifts, "No Sue, you have it wrong. I'm simply struggling to think of anything..." and he reaches out to pull you tight to his side, "ANYTHING in the world that could make me give her up...much leave leave voluntarily."

It's Sue's turn to be speechless, and that's when your tears do start to fall. This woman, who has hurt you so badly for years has just been made to feel like the parent of the most idiotic son in the world. At the same time, although you know the words were for effect, Ben has taken your battered self-esteem and lifted it to the stars. The week you had planned for 'no strings attached' may have just become more complicated for you....Seeing him leave forever on Friday may just break your heart.

You turn to him and quietly say, "Thank you." It doesn't say enough, but it's all you can manage.

"Let's go home....I'm through sharing you." He turns one last time to Sue and there's honest anger tinging his words, "Look Sue...I don't know you..or your son. But I've been looking for this woman," he nods his head toward you, "my entire life, so I suppose I owe your son a debt of thanks." He straightens his shoulders and bows majestically, "Thank you." He turns, you still tucked to his side, and begins to walk away.

"The groceries...?" You mutter.

"Leave them," he hisses, "We'll order in."

You begin to walk down the aisle before he pauses, gives you a sharp kiss on the lips and jogs back down to your trolley, still sitting beside a gob-smacked Sue. He reaches in and grabs the bottle of pineapple juice, before making defiant eye-contact with Sue and smoothly saying, "Sorry, we'll need this, I've heard it makes for brilliant blow-jobs."

He then turns away from Sue, winks at you down the aisle where you're watching and reaches out to grab another off the shelf, "In fact.....might need a couple" before jogging back to you.


	3. Forcing my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The argument in the supermarket has left Benedict on edge and looking for an outlet for excess energy.

The ride back is....tense. Once again, the man sitting beside you resembles a coiled spring. The muscles in his neck are noticeably tight as he clenches his jaw and his palms reflexively smooth along his thighs as you drove back.

You can't even begin to know what to say, so you say nothing. Concentrating on the road and hoping you haven't spoiled what remains of your week together. You're still buzzing at the way he sprung so readily to your defence without a second thought. You've done nothing to deserve it, and you hope he won't now see you as fragile or needy. That's not who you are, and it's certainly not who you want to be with him.

As you pull into the garage and turn off the engine you sit for a moment desperately trying to think of words to break the silence but he beats you to it. His voice is deep, and rough with suppressed anger.

"Look...."

You turn to him, hoping to get a better understanding of what he's thinking. "Ben?"

"I'm going to say some things and if they're not OK with you, I'll pack and leave now, but I think...after last night....." He pauses and takes a deep breath, clearly in two minds about what he wants to say. He runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck...this is harder than it should be..."

You reach out and lay a hand on his arm, "Honesty...OK?"

He smiles wryly, "Yeah...OK. Honesty. Look...People like her make me angry...really fucking angry." He holds your gaze in the dim interior of the car, "And there's different ways I handle that anger. I parachute....I drive fast...too damned fast...I'm an idiot on a motorcycle..you get the idea."

You nod.

"But what I want to do right now...and I mean right....fucking...now...Is take all this adrenaline, this tension...and I want to.... _christ_.." he sucks in another breath, "...I want pour all that energy into you. I want to take you inside and I want to push us both to the edge of what we can stand. Whatever you'll let me take from you, Damn it..I'll take it, and I want you to push me back...I want you to demand whatever you want and MAKE me give it to you." There's the glint of tears in his eyes as he waits for your answer, hoping for acceptance, but expecting rejection.

This is a Benedict Cumberbatch that the world doesn't get to see, and he's here sitting next to you. His soul is bare before you and once again the complexity of the man takes your breath away. Instead of a complicated answer, you simply lift his hand to your lips and kiss his fingers, then look up to his face and quietly...very clearly say, "My safeword is Albatross."

He nods back silently and you're sure you can hear both your hearts beating a too-loud staccato rhythm in the confines of the car, "Right..." he clears his throat roughly, "...right...OK. Rules, I suppose?" He seems awkward suddenly, as if he's rarely had this need met. But in this at least, you can reassure him.

"My husband enjoyed it a little rough, this doesn't scare me. So, no lasting marks, no cuts, but scratches are fine. I'm fine with being bound but...umm..." It's your turn to feel awkward, "I'm not good with having my head held...you know....on it." You flick your eyes to his crotch, "My gag reflex is a bit iffy." You add matter-o-fact, "I trust you and I promise I'll safe-word out if I need....which reminds me...I need yours if...you really want me to push you."

He looks thoughtful for a moment, and you see his Adam's apple bob. You'd been right, this is going to be a first for him, "Hamlet...I'll use Hamlet."

"One last thing....If I can ask?"

"Well.." he smiles "I think given the situation....you should get to make some choices"

You blush... _now or neve_ r..."That angry voice was bloody hot.....can you...keep using that..."

He laughs briefly and opens the car door, in a moment, he's opened yours and has pulled you from the car, His gravelly tones hiss at your ear and shiver down your spine, "Oh, you want Khan to come out to play? I think I can accommodate that."

You moan and half expect him to lift you from your feet, but instead he drags you... _DRAGS_..you to the door, and ruts up behind you as you scrabble for your keys.

"Hurry..." the voice in your ear is harsh, "Or I'll take you right here, where everybody will hear you scream."

 _Jesus Christ_...it's like a switch has been thrown. The light-hearted and playful English gentleman from yesterday is nowhere to be seen and instead you have this ridiculously hot alpha male demanding submission from you. If he wasn't pressing you almost painfully into the door frame, you're not sure your legs would still be holding you up.

You finally manage the lock and he places a firm hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you through. You have just enough time to glance over your shoulder and see him stalking toward you, posture rigid and head tilted ever so slightly forward.

"Turn around....and keep walking. I'll tell you when to stop."

Your mouth has gone dry, he encapsulates aggressive tension, but there's no threat of mindless violence in his actions. This Ben... _or is it Khan_...knows what he wants...and is planning on taking it with ruthless efficiency. You've never wanted to be dominated by a man like you do right now.

You reach the kitchen and he crowds you against the bench, grabbing your arm tight enough that you think it might bruise and swings you around. There's a momentary pause as he catches your eyes and suddenly Ben is back, silently checking-in as the softness returns to them, you smile, nod and then tilt your head back, exposing your throat to him.

He growls low in his throat and grabs your hair, pulling your head back further and sucking a stinging kiss onto your neck... _OK..that DEFINITELY will bruise_. You whimper as much from the tingling that's started coursing through you as the pain.

As he's tearing the shirt from your body... _I'll get a new one..God..please don't stop_..you can feel him nipping and sucking, marking you over and over again and setting the heat rushing to each spot in turn. He's muttering between bites and you gather your wits to make sense of the words.

"Mine..you're fucking mine....and whoever that prick was that left you....he can go hang himself..because he can never.... _bite_....have... _bite_....you... _bite_...back" As the last word leaves his mouth, he's sucking hard on one nipple and pinching the other painfully, and you're writhing against him wantonly.

You've never considered yourself a submissive woman but what Benedict's doing isn't just dominating you....it's OWNING you...it's giving you a value beyond measure and claiming you as his own. You've never felt worth more in your life.

The sound of the zip of his jeans makes you moan again, as he grabs you at the waist and hoists you up onto the bench, before reaching under your skirt and divesting you of your underwear. There's something sordid about sitting there topless, your underwear hanging from one ankle, yet your skirt simply rucked up around your hips.

Similarly, Ben's taken only the time needed to push his jeans down around his calves, without bothering with his shirt. You feel briefly like you did in high-school, unwilling or perhaps unable to wait any longer than absolutely necessary. And perhaps that's not far from the truth as he pulls you to him and thrust in fast and hard.

You reach for him, but he grabs your wrists in one of his hands and stretches your arms above your head, leaning you back onto the bench. "You..don't get to touch....This..isn't...about..you.." The phrase is punctuated with each thrust, and he is forced to use his other hand to steady you on the bench as momentum threatens to push you away from him.

It's harsh, and divine, and you're gasping for breath and overwhelmed by what's happening. You hear a crash somewhere to your right and suspect something has toppled from the bench. for all you care, it could be a priceless vase because...well damn anything that interrupts this moment. He's managed to get the angle just right, pushing against your pubic bone on each thrust and it's creating pressure in just the right spot, and you don't have enough wits to wonder if that's intentional or accidental because instead...you're screaming his name, and he's screaming yours and you might have blacked out for a moment, because you couldn't see for a few seconds as the world went white and then he's laying on top of you trying to catch his breath.

You feel your wrists being released and you stifle a gasp as overstretched muscles draw your arms down and around his shoulders. He can't be comfortable slumped over you and you're not sure how his legs are still holding him up, but you'll keep him there as long as he lets you.

You can tell your 'gentle Ben' is back by the quiet way the next words are uttered, "Umm....If we don't move..things are going to get a bit messy shortly."

You giggle foolishly and then louder as he adds, beginning to chuckle himself, "No...seriously love, don't laugh..that's not helping...Oh God.." You feel movement below the waist and know that gravity has done it's duty as you feel wetness spread between your thighs as various bodily fluids slip southward. You can't stop yourself, it's brilliantly awkward and not like in the romance novels and so wonderfully, wonderfully normal and you're laughing at him, and with him and suddenly neither of you care about the mess, or what comes next. Just being here together is enough.


	4. Taking control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the tables to be turned and for our female lead to take control, and for both of them to enjoy it.

At some point during the afternoon, after a shower, and a cuddle on the bed, and some sandwiches and ordering some groceries, you find yourselves curled up on the couch. Ben's retrieved a script of some sort from his backpack and you're working your way through a crossword on your iPad.

Although he's clearly deep in thought, he still finds it impossible not to glance at what you're doing, "Generally" he mutters.

"Hmmm?"

"Nine letter word for most often......Generally...17 across."

"Oh..Thanks" You continue on for several minutes.

"Roughly"

You suppress a smile, "Say something?"

"6 Down...Raggedly.....7 letters...roughly."

"You can't help yourself can you?"

He looks chastised, "Sorry..I'll stop."

"No. It's fine..In fact, it's adorable."

"I am NOT adorable."

"Oh, I think you'll find, sitting there wrapped in my bed-sheet, with your hair ruffled...that you are."

He grins at you, "No...I think you'll find that I'm fire....or death..or...a high functioning sociopath or ....something..but I'm not....adorable."

Any further conversation is interrupted as his phone, still under the side table rings. He heaves a sigh and pads over on bare feet to grab it. "I suppose it was too good to last.....Hello?"

You make a motion to leave the room but he waves you to stay on the couch.

"What?...No..no..I'm fine....what?" He looks up at you, alarmed, "No...I haven't been riding for......Oh Shit...I left it in Geelong!"

He hits a button on the phone and continues, "Karon, you're on speaker. Go ahead."

The tinny voice of Benedict's PR agent penetrates the room, "OK, so at least you're OK. I can tell you it scared the shit out of us when the hire company rung us to tell us the bike had been totalled."

"God, sorry guys. To be honest, I forgot all about it."

There's a snort down the line, "How you ever manage to dress yourself without us there to help continues to amaze me."

Ben looks down at himself, wrapped only in a sheet and raises a finger to his lips, silently asking you not to give him away. "Yes, well...."

"Anyway...We'll take care of things from this end. We'll report it stolen, deal with the police and the rest. Do you need another bike?"

He looks at you, "Do I need another bike?"

You shrug, unsure of the protocol in this situation and whether you should speak up.

He smiles, "She says no...we'll be fine. She's unsurprisingly been left speechless in the face of my incredible charisma."

"Incredible ego more-like" come the voice on the phone and you laugh. "Take care of our boy mystery-lady, he's a bit special to us."

You summon up the courage to finally speak hesitantly, "Yeah.....to me too."

Ben takes the phone off speaker and strolls down the hall to your room, clearly needing to sort out a few private details, but as the door begins to close you hear, "I don't know yet, but this is different Karon, it's intense. I'd forgotten how this feels...She's not..." You wonder how the sentence ended and hug a cushion to you for comfort while you wait for him to come back.

When the door opens again, he throws himself down beside you on the couch and gathers you to him, "Right..long story really short. Parked my bike at Geelong, went to buy a coffee, a beautiful woman took me home and somehow....my bike gets forgotten," He rolls his eyes at you, "Can't imagine how that happened. Anyway, turns out, someone stole it, took it joyriding and got himself trashed on the freeway. He'll be fine but it's all a bit of a mess. So....you're officially stuck with me the rest of the week." he raises a dramatic hand to his forehead, "I don't know how we'll cope."

"Yes...you and your overwhelming charisma. Please Mr Cumberbatch...." You affect a whining teenage tone, "....will you sign this photo for me?"

He hugs you tight turning you both so you're laying along the couch, "Why yes miss, I will. I know this simple act will be a cornerstone moment in your dull and mainstream life."

You roll in his arms bringing your faces close together, "You're a dick, you know."

"I do....and I'm all yours."

"Only for three more days" you add sadly.

"Mmmm...Let's just put that on the back-burner. I don't want to think about that now." he murmurs as he brings his lips to yours.

You kiss him back, slow and sensuously. Where this morning's sex had been rough and fast, it was your turn to take control and you intended to take this slow...very slow indeed. You lift your head and whisper, "Your safe word was Hamlet, right?"

He gasps a little and nods.

"Remember it, love. It's my turn now." You tell him.

You tug at the cord tying your robe together and although he may have thought you'd only intended to shed the fabric, his eyes widen when you use the satin cord to bind his hands together, before tucking them behind his head, "Leave them there, OK?"

Another nod, and you can already feel him stirring beneath you again.

You tug at the edges of the sheet he's wrapped in, peppering his skin in tiny kisses and taking your time, seeking out every inch you can reach. He hisses as you lick around the shell of his ear, before sucking in his earlobe and gently nibbling it. There's a little moan and you feel him strain his arms before forcing himself to relax into his bonds again.

You continue your assault down his neck, tasting the vague saltiness of sweat at his collarbones. He smells more like your shampoo after two showers at your house and you wonder idly what he usually smells like at home. Tugging the sheet further apart, you spend an inordinate amount of time exploring his nipples. Entranced with the way they pebble between your fingertips, and how he shivers as you suckle on each in turn.

You know the slowness of your progress is having the desired effect. Ben is mumbling almost constantly and although you can't catch most of the words _Christ_ , and _now_ , and _more_ , and _yes_ keep repeating with pleasant regularity.

You continue kissing down his sternum, finding a surprisingly erogenous zone just where it dips and his abs begin. So you slow down and play there for a while, delighting in the whimpers and growls the actions provoke together with the reflexive bucking of his hips.

While amusing yourself and tormenting Ben, you stroke fingertips along the gentle ridges defining his stomach. Never described as 'buff' Benedict's recent roles have nevertheless needed more definition and the legacy is still imprinted under your fingers.

You feel gentle fingers in your hair... _time to check-in_...you look up, and his face is taught with suppressed desire. There's a flush on his cheeks and his eyes are heavy lidded. You look to him with a question, "OK?"

He nods between ragged breaths, "You...are...amazing. Evil...and a little bit sadistic..but amazing..don't stop. God, please don't stop."

"Then you'd better put those hands back, I didn't say you could move them. No touching sir."

He looks down at his hands, still tied together where they rest on your head. He seems momentarily confounded as to how they got there before sighing and moving them back behind his head again. "Very well, vile temptress...do as you will."

You chuckle and resume your glacial progress, this time moving down to his hips and tracing the neat V toward his groin. Each time, you stop well before you might be tempted to just 'have-at-it' and instead move to the other side, briefly stopping to nuzzle at his belly-button on the way.

There's a fair amount of swearing going on at the other end of the couch now and since you've moved the sheet away, there is a frustrated bobbing amongst his pubic hair that's keeping time with your movements. You decide it's time to move to phase two of your plan to reduce Benedict Cumberbatch to a quivering pile of ecstasy.

You slide further down between his legs, and look up to see him watching your every move. The feeling of power is exquisite, and seeing him so lost with desire for you and yet acquiescent under your hands is a heady thing indeed, "Now here's what we're going to do. We're going to play a game. If you're clever...and I know you are..you'll work out the rules and you get a reward. If not....well, no reward."

You huff a warm breath, strong enough to move the hairs directly below your mouth and there's another involuntary twitch as his cock flexes toward you. You smile and give it a little kiss on the tip.

"See, it knows what it wants, clever boy."

You settle a hand on either hip, gently steadying him. You haven't done this for a while and you wonder if he remembers what you said about your gag reflex. Time to test that out.

You lean in and lick a long strip up the underside from root to tip and the response is immediate and quite violent. You can feel his thigh muscles clench under your hands holding his hips as he tries to arch up and you lift your head higher and away.

"Ah, ah, ahhh.." you say scoldingly, "Not allowed to help. Arse back on the couch please or there'll be no more."

There's a bitter laugh, rough from panted breaths, "Fucking Hell. That's it, call my office...Tell them I'll be dead by morning."

You giggle and settle back down, this time nosing gently amongst the dark ginger curls that nestle around his cock, consciously avoiding the action he obviously wants you to take. His smell is stronger here, but not unpleasant. Less like the vanilla and raspberry of your bathroom and more of the cigarettes and citrus that you remember from the day you met him. Perhaps you've solved the mystery of what he smells like finally.

You continue nuzzling, occasionally tilting your head to place feather-light teasing kisses along his length, never reaching the crown, never granting him enough pressure to rut against. You've decided to continue this until....

"Oh God..... _Pleeeassee_."

That's what you were waiting for, a bit of old fashioned begging. You reward him immediately by taking the crown in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the top and then sinking down on him, watching for signs of him bucking up against you again...if it's going to happen again, it'll be now.

But he's gotten the idea... _clever indeed_...he stays stoically planted on the couch, although his knees have flexed bringing his feet up and onto the couch. You let him have that small solace.

You take a hand from his hip and wrap it around his base, he's too long for you to take in entirety and you're not brave enough to try. Instead, you steady him with your hand and take your time working out what he likes. Firm or soft, slow or fast. You reach a thumb to tease at his frenulum and there's more swearing from above you, so that's repeated. Over and over again, you push him and then slow the pace, in complete control of his pleasure.

You move your other hand to gently fondle his balls and that elicits neither groans nor a flinch so you leave them alone, instead concentrating on what you're doing with your mouth and hand and moving your free hand to splay on his lower abdomen. It's taught and rigid under your fingers and you take that as a sign that he's starting to struggle to hold himself back from climax in spite of your efforts to keep him on the edge.

You ease off him with a wet pop, adding a little lick at the tip because...well because you can..and look up. His head is thrown back and his mouth hangs open. He's panting for breath, but lifts his head when you stop, the look of open desperation is one you'll remember forever.

"You've been so good...so very good. I'm proud of you. You've learned all your lessons so I'm going to reward you now..Do you want that?"

He nods a little brokenly, his eyes shut and lips tight.

You turn your eyes back down and as you lower your head, you see him drop his own to the arm of the couch, unable to sustain the effort to keep watching. You know what he wants now, how much pressure, how long the strokes, when to suck and when to relax and with a final swirl of your tongue he's coming down your throat and you're glad you still have a hand on his hip because he's gone rigid below you as he shudders and cries out and then convulses again as you swallow around him, taking it all, letting him ride out the pleasure as you gently smooth your tongue up his length and let him slip from your lips.

You're breathing almost as hard as he is and his hands are magically back in your hair although you don't know when that happened. You crawl up his body and he twitches as you brush his over-sensitive member but wraps his still bound arms around you as you settle on his chest.

He's peppering the top of your head with kisses and you both regain your breath. As you laze in the afterglow of bringing him so much joy, drifting on the edge of sleep you hear his deep voice utter words you never imagined hearing, "I think I've fallen in love with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has previously been published as a Sherlolly fic. If you find it, it's not been plagiarised, it's mine (I just like to keep my RPF and Sherlock fic separate)


	5. Beaches and Breakthroughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Benedict's emotional reveal at the end of the last chapter, there's some things to discuss before our couple move forward.

It's well after 11am when you struggle out of bed the next day. The night is a bit of a hazy blur. Both of you went to bed tired... _over-tired._.and yet waking every few hours to curl against each other with gentle kisses and fingertips. Fighting against sleep to revel in precious hours, sometimes content just with the touch of skin-on-skin, other times, it escalates to more. Now with daylight through the windows you wander, drunk on lack of sleep and endorphins and yet still pausing to reconnect as you wander from room to room in comfortable silence. It would feel awful, if it didn't feel so good.

Ben points lazily in the direction of the bathroom, "Shower."

You point in the other, "Breakfast."

He nods and you smile at each other. Yesterday's confrontation at the supermarket had forced the kind of revelations and openness that many couples didn't broach for years, if ever and, once again, the two of you had clicked into place as if your compatibility was designed specifically for each other. You pause again to consider that he's been part of your life for only a few days....it seems like years.

Neither of you have mentioned what he said on the couch, but you know it will need to be discussed. You have three days....three precious days before the needs of his job will pull him away. You need to know, for your own sanity, whether to further risk your already endangered heart. Its a question you both hope and dread the answer to.

Ben emerges from the bathroom, towel slung low around his hips, hair roughly dried and he's looking far more awake. He joins you in the kitchen, and you move easily in each other's personal space as he fossicks through cupboards as if they were in his own house.

You lean up and give him a warm kiss on the cheek and head to take your own shower as he slaps you on the arse as you pass.

Returning, dressed in a light summer dress, you join him at your small kitchen table. He's managed to scrounge up...of all things...coco-pops, and as he shovels them into his mouth like a reckless five year old you add butter and jam to your toast.

"So..." you begin, "We're getting out today."

He looks up at you questioningly. "We are?"

"You planned on beach while you were here, so I'm taking you to a nice quiet one. We need some fresh air. We can't spend the next three days inside."

"We can't?", his eyebrow lifts wickedly, "I'm willing to take that bet."

You grin back, "We shouldn't spend the next three days inside. Fresh air will do us good," you waggle your own eyebrows back, "Might give us some extra energy."

"Extra energy...count me in."

@@@@

An hour later, you arrive at a small secluded beach you've been visiting since you were young. Nobody comes here, instead flocking to the more popular beaches with easy parking. You walk through the dunes and crest the rise, standing together looking at the low surf rolling in.

"Do you surf?" He asks, watching the waves longingly.

"No...to be honest, my idea of swimming comprises thrashing in the direction of shore most of the time."

"God, if I lived here, I'd be in the water every day."

"Says the man who didn't want to leave the house."

He concedes defeat with a laugh, "You have a point." He drops the basket with sandwiches and juice on the sand and settles beside it, you join him.

You lean against his shoulder and his arm comes up to wrap around your opposite shoulder. It's comfortable, relaxed and yet the questions are still simmering below the surface.

"You want to talk." He's still staring out toward the water.

"I think we need to...yeah."

He turns to kiss the top of your head, "Then let's talk. Another couple of days won't change things, at least for me, so let's sort this all out now."

You sigh, not knowing quite how to begin, but the firm squeeze of your shoulder helps, "What you said...yesterday."

"You wonder if I meant it?"

"Mmmmm."

"Would it scare you if I did? That I might love you, so soon?"

"No..yes..maybe."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what it means. Two days Ben, you've known me two days!"

"I know." He replies softly, "I didn't say it lightly..but I did need to say it."

"Why?"

He turns to look at you gravely, "Because I did mean it."

"Oh." You turn away, unable to meet his eyes.

The silence drags out, you can feel it crushing the space between you. Filling it with insurmountable tension and you can't stand it. "Ben...." you say carefully.

His head is down, and he's silently picking grains off his jeans, He quietly says, "It's OK....I won't say it again...it was too fast, it was a mistake to say anything."

_Oh God_....you can hear the restrained sadness in his voice. This isn't what you wanted and you realise.. _should have already realised._..that it isn't only your heart on the line here.

You reach out to cover his hand with your own, "Ben..." you try again, "It's OK."

He's quiet...too quiet, sitting with his hand still under yours until he suddenly moves to get up, "No...sorry, I can't. Can you tell me how to get back to town? I can't stay." He's babbling, his words string together, "I can't....Fuck....I just need to go." He pulls away and gets up.

He's running...emotionally _and if you don't move quickly, physically too_ and you realise you've made a dreadful mistake. The worst of your life.. _and that's saying something_. You grab for his shirt and allow his momentum to pull you up and toward him, almost overbalancing with the force, but you can't let go, not now.

"Ben! Wait."

"No...It's OK...I understand. I made a judgement call and it was wrong. It happens. It's been fun, we've had a ball...Be happy." He's striding away, platitudes falling behind him as he goes.

"For fucks sake.....Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch....will you fucking stop for a second you damned, fucking, idiot man. JESUS CHRIST!"

That pulls him up short for a moment, and he turns to face you. There's tears in his eyes, that you know have a tendency to come quickly for him, and his fists are balled at his sides.

"Christ Ben...will you just....wait."

A tear escapes and slides down his cheek and he almost shouts, "I can't!"

"Why?"

His voice drops to a broken whisper, "Because this is killing me."

You walk toward him with your arms open and gather him to you in spite of his words. He nuzzles his head on your shoulder and you can feel wetness through the cotton there as he lets more silent tears well.

You whisper softly against his hair, "You know I'm as scared as you are, right?"

There's no response apart from his arms clinging fiercely to you.

"And you know I don't doubt you for a second."

Still nothing.

"And you know...you must know...that it's the thought of having to watch you leave that's freaking me out."

There's an intake of breath against your dress, as if you've finally given him that maybe, just maybe he can fight against. Something he can fix.

"And....God...you may only have known me two days...but I...like half the world...have been a bit in love with you much longer than that."

He hugs you tighter still.

"But that man..the one on the big screen, the one in the magazines...That man." You manage to slip a hand under his chin and lift his face so he can see the tears in your eyes matching his own, "He can't even hope to compare to the one I have in my arms now." You kiss him tenderly, hoping to erase some of the pain you've caused to you both and he kisses you back as if he'll suffocate without your lips under his.

You pull away, wiping the tears from cheekbones that have launched ships as he rubs at yours. "So if you're done trying to run, maybe we can talk about where we go from here."

He nods gravely but the tiredness has lifted from his eyes. You both know where you stand, and there's a better understanding about how much you stand to lose. You lead him back to the basket still waiting on the beach and sit back down, patting the low tussocks of grass next to you.

He joins you with a huffed out sigh, "Sorry. Lost my shit a bit back there."

"Yes...yes you did. Well done you, I was very impressed."

"Not sure I did it to impress you."

"And yet...there you go....turning a girl's head with tears and a high EQ."

He winces, "Yeah...I'm afraid if you let me stick around, you'll get that. I should have stock in a tissue company."

You snort, "You must be hysterical watching chick flicks."

"Let's just say I tend not to go to cinemas for them."

"Right then...good to know."

It feels good to be talking again. The tension is easing and the comfort you've felt in past days is reasserting itself.

He's inching toward you on the sand, "Can I ask something? Would you come over here, I have this sudden need to have you closer."

You scuttle over and resettle between his splayed legs, your back against his chest and his arms circling you. "Anytime."

He continues, the vibrations of his voice shivering through you "Seriously, what you see is pretty much what you get with me. I don't have the energy to go locking anything away between roles. Pretending to be someone else has a tendency to screw with your head, so in my down time, I need to just be myself. I don't play games, and people who play games with me end up on the end of a very long leash."

"Also good to know." you suspect letting him talk this out is what's needed right now.

"So...." The laying bare of his soul slows.

"So..."

"I'll admit, I thought I'd cocked this up. When Olivia and I...." he catches himself, "Sorry, do you mind if I..."

"Mention your ex? No it's fine. You've always spoken fondly of Olivia, and that you stayed friends says a lot about you both."

"Yes. Anyway..when Olivia and I were together we always regretted not speaking up sooner. Turns out we both knew for months but were to scared to say anything. I couldn't make the same mistake again. I possibly pushed things too far the other way."

"Perhaps...a bit...but it's in the open now, we can talk about it. So what do we do?"

"Well I can't very well ask you to give up your entire life in Australia and fly home with me." He holds you tighter.

"No....that would be unreasonable." You pause weighing up your next words, "Ben....?"

"Mmmmm?" he murmurs sadly.

"Ask me anyway."

You feel him take in a breath of surprise and his muscles tense wherever you are touching. ".....Will you come back to England with me?"

"In a New York minute! Sooner, if you'll have me."

"You're kidding me?"

"Nope. I have nothing important keeping me here. I'll need to sort out some money from the bank for the flight, but if you want me...you've got me."

He laughs behind you, the rumble moving through you both, "Oh, I want you...constantly, and I think I can manage a ticket for you. I've got a few dollars tucked away for a special occasion."

"Is this special?"

He breathes into your hair as it rests against his chin, "Oh yes....this is shaping up to be very special indeed.


	6. Getting in touch with Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word is spreading about the altercation in the supermarket and you decide to let a friend in on your relationship. Afterward, love among the stars.
> 
> WARNING: Your friend Lisa swears like a trooper, but if you're offended by foul language, I think you would have tuned out long ago,

After the soul searching of the morning, the two of you felt like doing little more than watching silly videos and staying close on the couch. Ben had resumed reviewing scripts, scrawling in the margins and chewing idly on the end of the pencil he was using. It seemed important to him to have you in arms reach and you were more than happy to oblige.

The gentle afternoon was disturbed by your phone on the bench, the chime of the ring tone and buzz as it migrated across the polished top drew your attention away from the TV as you rose to retrieve it.

"What the hell have you been doing?" Your friend Lisa's voice is direct.

"Whyyyy?" you ask evasively.

"Word's all over Geelong, and I mean ALL, that you and Sue had some sort of an epic confrontation in Coles."

"Ahh, that."

"Yeah that. What the hell?"

"She was being a bitch, so for once, she got as good as gave."

"Wow, I'm not sure I thought you had it in you."

You look to Ben on the couch, engrossed in reading lines.. _.it may as well be now_..."I wouldn't have, the guy with me however, thought she needed a lesson."

"Guy? What guy?..spill...What's he like...Do I know him?"

You giggle down the line, "Hang on a sec.." You wave wildly at Ben to attract his attention, he finally looks up. You hit mute, "My friend's on the phone. What do I say?"

"Whatever you like, It's going to be news at some point and trust me that it's better if you control the story on your terms. You only get to do this once. Enjoy it."

The story.....The story....you hadn't considered that. Your life is about to change, but instead of fear, you instead feel a giddy excitement at facing the future together.

You hit the button again, taking the phone off mute and then hitting the speaker button, "Look Lisa...Umm...OK this is going to get a bit surreal, so stick with me...OK."

"Mystery man....what is he....black? Hung like a horse I'll bet."

"Speaker!! You're on speaker you dag!" you shout, but Ben's put his script aside and has erupted in laughter.

"Fuck...is that him? He sounds super hot..." she raises her voice, practically shouting over the phone, "LAUGH AGAIN....DO THE SUPER-HOT LAUGH, MYSTERY BLACK MAN."

You roll your eyes and rejoin Ben on the couch, he gestures for you to give him the phone.

He settles with his arm around you and points at the phone, mouthing silently, _I like her_. He then says, "Let's play twenty questions."

You laugh, "You heard the man....I'll help you out, yes Lisa, he's not black."

"Ahhh, a challenge...I accept your challenge mystery not-black man. Are you.....hung like a black man."

"Fuck! Lisa!"

She giggles on the other end, "You said I get 20 questions. I need to cover the important ones first..obviously."

Ben's smiling easily, "Obviously....I can say, with my wide exposure to black men's cocks, mine stacks up nicely."

"OMG..he said cock....he said cock!" She titters naughtily, "OK..second question...he sounds English....are you English?"

"Yes....he's English."

"Tall?"

You share a look, and Ben answers in his best Sherlock voice, "Not as tall as people think I am."

She misses the reference, probably because the truth would be impossible to consider.

"Hmmm....Do I know you?"

Ben looks to you for help, "Oh, that's tricky...I've certainly mentioned him, and I reckon if we'd met you in the supermarket, you'd have recognised him....but you've never met."

"Fuck....what the fuck does that mean? Did we go to school with him?"

"No, and that's five"

"Shit! This is hard....How long until you slept with him?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" You blush furiously. The answer sounds...well....terrible.

"Nothing, I just want to know 'cause I'm nosey."

"It's a fair question, love. And your answer is that we fell into bed in a tangle of limbs on the day we met."

Lisa's reply is an awed whisper, "Fuck."

You can't let it rest at that. If Ben is going to wind up you friend, you want to help, "Actually, I think we were on the chair at first."

He laughs, deep and filthy, "Ah yes....that chair, I remember...THEN the bed."

There's a squeak from the other end of the phone, "That's it...I'm coming over...I'm coming over right now."

"No..Lisa, wait."

Ben puts a hand on your arm, "Let her come over...I want to meet your friends before we fly out."

There's another squeak from the phone, "What! What..fly...where...what...?"

"Lisa....come over...we'll put the kettle on. See you soon." He hits end and smiles at you.

"Maybe now's a good time for you to ring some other friends, family?

You close your mouth with a snap, "Yeah...I suppose...We're really doing this aren't we...We're flying out on Friday?"

He kisses you hard on the lips, "Yes we are...Sydney for ComiCon and then I get to show you the world. Now, put the kettle on."

Nearly an hour later, you've rung your family and a couple of other close friends and explained that you're unexpectedly flying overseas on the weekend and that..no..nothing's wrong, and ..yes...you'll ring them back with more information when you get there. Remembering what Ben said about controlling the story, you say nothing about him, or your relationship.

You're just finishing up with a friend when the door-bell rings and Ben, winking wickedly as he passes you and heads to the door to open in. You sigh, but leave him to his fun.

He stands behind the door as he opens it and you wave at Lisa through the open door, motioning her to come in as you wrap up your call and hit 'end'. As she walks down the hall, Ben falls into step slightly behind her, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back.

She starts slightly and glances over her shoulder, then upward, having misjudged his height. He kicks the door closed behind him and continues to guide her further into the house, eyes sparkling at you all the while, waiting for Lisa to put two-and-two together.

She's just about connected the dots as she reaches the kitchen, walking forward to you and saying soto-voice, "Don't know if you've noticed.....but your new man looks a lot like Benedict Cumberbatch."

"Yes," you say calmly, "I noticed that."

She glances over her shoulder again, narrowing her eyes and turns back to you again, "A hell of a lot."

You lean forward your lips at her ear and whisper, "I know."

She looks again, and back again at you and her eyes widen, "Oh FUCK OFF!"

Ben comes around to quietly stand behind you and lays a hand at your hip extending the other as if to shake Lisa's hand. "Pleased to meet you Lisa."

"Oh FUCK..RIGHT..OFF!"

Ben's laughing now, between kisses on your head, both arms now wrapped around your waist, "Oh, I really like her."

"You're Benedict Cumberbatch."

"I know." he says calmly.

"Fuck OFF!"

"Let's have a cuppa." you add, having the time of your life at her expense.

"Benedict Cumberbatch is in your HOUSE."

  
"Tea?" He asks.

"OMG....Benedict Cumberbatch is in your house...making tea!"

He's pulling cups from the cupboard as you boil water, "She's just about there now. Give her another minute." he says to you.

There's a pause and you're having trouble not collapsing into giggles. You love the way Ben has let you have this moment, knowing it will probably not happen again, once the story gets out.

"Oh....my...God..." Lisa whispers.

"She's got it now...she's worked it out." He chuckles happily.

She's pointing a finger at you, "You..are...fucking....Benedict....Cumberbatch."

You shake your head and steady yourself on the bench as the helpless laughs come, "God, I have classy friends."

He hands her a cup and seemingly innocently, flashes those miraculous eyes at her, "Milk?"

"I need to sit down."

"I think you'd better."

 

@@@@

Lisa calms down over the next few hours and although still ridiculously star-struck... _my God she asked for a photo with him pointing at her_..the night ends with the three of you drinking and eating popcorn and her telling you all the fantastic places you should visit in London. She then starts to cry and bemoan the fact that you're leaving her behind. In the end, Ben calls her a cab and you promise to drop her car off tomorrow.

You fall onto bed together after midnight still clothed, a little drunk, a little giddy and quite a bit thankful that you now have the house to yourselves. Without a word, Ben lays beside you for a moment before levering himself off the bed again and silently holding out a hand.

"What?" you ask.

He gestures for you to take his hand again and then wordlessly leads you to the backyard.

Once there, he takes you in his arms and begins dancing with you to music only he can hear. He sways you slowly, rhythmically and occasionally spins you in place before pulling you back to him. You lean into his chest and can feel his heart beating under the shirt. You tilt your face up and can see the stars winking far above his head, his eyes closed as he dances with you, at peace with the world.

You lay a gentle kiss over his heart and snuggle closer.

"You know I've only said those words to two people." He speaks slowly, the words quiet in the night.

"What words?"

He looks down at you, "That I love you....I just thought you should know...you're the second."

"Oh Ben..." you feel like crying and singing at the same time, "..you can't begin to imagine how much I love you too."

He leads you to the large padded couch on your veranda and draws you down to him. "Things will get a bit crazy...after Friday. We'll try and keep this quiet until London but I don't know how that will go. I think I'm a bit obvious around you. In the mean time, let's take the time we have." He kisses you and reaches to the zip at your back, drawing the tab down and nuzzling the straps off your shoulder."

"Here? You don't want to..go inside?"

"No." he says simply.

"The neighbours?"

"Will get a show if they come out...but we'll be quiet." He licks at your nipples, already pebbled beneath your bra, and you arch with a hiss, "You can be quiet, can't you?"

"NNngghhhnn" You're working at his buttons, undoing one at a time. You feel the release of your bra clip and suddenly his tongue is laving your skin and it's even better than before.

"You're so gorgeous, I want to keep you all to myself, and at the same time I want to call the media and shout _Look at her, she's gorgeous and she loves me_."

"Christ Ben, I really do....I can't believe how much I love you, and you're mine." Having pushed his shirt off his shoulders, you've undone his jeans and he wriggles them down his legs as he rucks up the skirt on your dress.

"MmmHmm..all yours. Always" He pushes a finger up your thigh and there's a delighted intake of breath as he realises you haven't worn underwear. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

You curl your fingers around his length and squeeze gently, "Thought I'd save us some time."

He moans as you stroke him firmly, "Always.....so thoughtful."

You scrabble around so you're straddling his lap, pushing forward to rub him against you, between your outer lips. You're more than ready and the movement is slick and warm. You whisper, "Want you inside me."

"Good...." He steadies his hands on your waist and supports your weight as you lower yourself, and you both groan at the feeling. "God, I can never get enough of this..."

"Mmmhmm....me too." You start to move, staring into his eyes as you move, savouring this quiet, secluded moment you suspect may never come again. There's a gentleness in the way he's handling you, like something treasured and special. You know from the previous morning that this isn't the way it will always be, that sometimes it will be hard and rough and you wonder just how many ways the two of you will find to love each other. Enough for a lifetime you suspect.

His eyelids are flickering closed each time you press down and there's a look of concentration haunting his features and you realise he's pacing himself to you. You take his hand and move it between you, guiding him to rub you the way you like. You see surprise on his face and wonder if he's used to a lover asking for what she wants, something else to explore.

But for now, you're mind is beginning to drift as pleasure builds and both your breath is becoming increasingly short. You can feel his hand beginning to grip at your waist and you increase the pace, familiar now with the signs that he's close.

He burrows his head in your neck and breathes hard, "Close.....close, love....can't..."

You add your hand over his and urge him to increase pressure, pushing you over the edge as you throw your head back and try to stifle a keening cry. Your muscles clench around him and he grunts into the curve of your neck, thrusting up hard and spilling into you, both his hands stilling before a series of shudders wrack his lean frame.

He's kissing your shoulder and murmuring your name as you see a light next door do on. You're both shrouded in darkness so you motion Ben to silence and you cling together as your skin cools and you try not to giggle as your neighbour comes out the back door, listens for a few moments before returning inside.

The giggles escape between kisses to his cheek, "Is exhibitionism something I should expect often?"

"Not often....Although it was fun.....We could always try joining the mile high club."

"You're going to be trouble...aren't you?"

"God..I hope so."

"So do I Ben, so do I."


	7. Best laid plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our couple have some plans to make before their trip to Sydney. It's time to meet some of the other members of Benedict's team.  
> *Sorry...no explicit content this chapter, but the next two make up for the lack..promise.

You wake to find Ben missing. It's early, a little past 6am and he's managed to slip out without waking you.

You take a long shower and stretch out muscles that have had an extreme workout in the past three days. It feels good and you find yourself humming as you hear the front door click. Benedict appears in the doorway to the bathroom, "Good, you're up. We need to get a move on. Lots to do if I'm going to hit my mark in Sydney tomorrow and have you there too."

He waves a paper bag at you, "Croissants, coffee, snacks. Bruce arrived with the car this morning. We drove Lisa's back and he's outside waiting patiently for us."

"Bruce?"

"Bodyguard extraordinaire. You'll like him, he runs my personal team."

"Oh. What should I bring."

"I'd suggest travelling light. Bring something nice to wear and I'll take you to dinner on Saturday night. We'll come back here after Comicon so you can pack properly for the English Winter, and we'll need to arrange for your cats to come too. That's all assuming the weekend doesn't scar you for life and you change your mind about me being worth the drama."

"Doubtful."

"Other than that...pretend you're going away for two nights...you might get away with a carry-on."

You watch Ben stuff his clothes, including the coffee-stained t-shirt that never managed to get cleaned, into his backpack. You grab a sports-bag and toss in underwear, a couple of shirts and toiletries. You add your iPad and it's charger, your passport...just in case...and then pause for a moment, "My cats!"

"Lisa's going to come around and feed them this weekend."

"Oh, did she offer when you dropped the car off?"

"No..I asked...apparently I'm hard to say no to. Although the roses and breakfast I took her may have swayed it a bit."

"Where are my roses?"

"In the car....obviously." He smiles at you.

"Obviously...come here." You reach to pull him to you by his tie, and notice, not for the first time this morning, how nice he looks in a suit. You kiss him soundly. "Done."

He looks shocked, "You're packed? Already."

"Yep..no nonsense girl, that's me."

He kisses you back as a reward, "You just keep getting better. I dare-say you pack faster than I do."

You lock the door and climb into the black Audi in the driveway, the windows are tinted and the seats are leather. A well built man turns to greet you from the driver's seat.

"Morning. I'm Bruce, a pleasure to meet you."  
You nod back, "Ummm, hi."

"Looks like I'll have to watch the both of you from now on. Ben's threatened me with some pretty nasty injuries if you have even a moment's unhappiness in Sydney. Seem's you've turned our boy's head."

"It's a mystery to me Bruce...there's nothing special about me, honestly."

Ben climbs in next to you, "And saying things like that is only the start of the reasons you, in fact, are special. Onward Bruce....time to face the music."

You look to him, hearing the tension in his voice, "Trouble?"

"No...but let's just say I expect Karon to have some fairly.....bracing..questions. To be fair, it's her job, and this has blind-sided her." He looks at you fondly and draws you to him, "Almost as much as us."

"When do we need to be there?"

"10am..Why?"

"If we have time, I'd like to drop past my parents. It's on the way and I think I need to tell them."

Ben catches Bruce's eyes in the rear-view mirror and they nod at each other. You mention the address and Bruce adds it to the GPS, checking travel times. "You can have an hour there, will that work for you?" Bruce asks.

"That'll be plenty, I just think they need to know from me rather than read it in the papers."

"Agreed..Want me there?"

"Always."

@@@

It feels odd to be sitting in your parents lounge, Ben's hand clasped firmly in yours, your Mum's eyes watching where they're joined with unwavering scrutiny, your Dad's eyes fixed on Ben. They've been quiet for a minute or two and you know giving them time to consider their questions is the right move.

"So....England?" your Mum begins.

"Yes" you reply simply.

"With....a celebrity?"

"Yes."

"A bit sudden, isn't it?" This from your Dad

"Yes. But it feels right. Please believe me, it feels right to us both, Dad."

"Mmmpfftt." he adds noncommittally. 

"I'm not a child Dad, I know what love feels like. I know what I'm getting myself into."

Your Dad fixes Benedict with his appraising glare, "Does she?"

"Not even slightly, but I do. I'll make sure she's safe."

Your Dad nods, "That's the smartest thing either of you have said. My daughter is right, neither of you are children, so I'll speak to you as a man....Do you love my daughter Benedict?"

He doesn't even blink, simply nods and seriously says, "Yes....I do. I'm not an idiot, and neither is your daughter. We're well aware that this is very sudden, and I'm slightly terrified at how fast this has happened, but the thought of leaving her behind makes me physically ill. The next few weeks are going to be a nightmare and I suspect there will be times when she hates me for the media storm that's coming..."

"I won't hate you...the situation..maybe..not you.."

He smiles and continues, "But I'll be there for her, I promise you that. So...yes...I love her."

Your Mum looks at you, there's tears in her eyes, "And you? How do you feel? I know you've watched this man's career for a while. Are you sure?"

You look at Ben and then back at your Mum, "Yes, I'm sure. I may have been infatuated with Ben's media image, but I'm in love with who he is. I'm sorry you won't get to know him better, because we have a meeting we have to get to today, but you have to trust me Mum. I'm sure...I'm so sure."

Your Mum nods and your Dad stands and extends his hand, "Then be happy, you two, I think you're both insane, but you only get to live once and who am I to say what's right. I thought her ex was a lovely guy...and look at what a prick he turned out to be."

He pulls Ben toward him until they're standing nose to nose, "Don't turn out to be a prick Cumberbatch...or I'll be very disappointed." He then surprises you by pulling Ben into a back-slapping manly hug as your Mum hugs you tight and kisses you goodbye.

Back in the car, there's a few tears as you get under way, and Ben hugs you to him as Bruce silently takes you onto the freeway for the trip to the city.

@@@@

"Seriously Ben, three days!" Karon's moderating her volume to ensure the conversation remains within the walls of her suite.

"Didn't plan it Karon...Nevertheless, this is the situation to manage."

Ben's left you in the sitting area while he speaks to Karon in the bedroom, for all the good the thin wall between the room is doing to muffle what they're saying.

"Three days?"

"You said that already, can we move on."

She sighs heavily, "Ok...Ok...let's start again...Ideal situation...how do YOU what to handle this. Let's work from best-case back to most likely."

He huffs a laugh, "That's my girl...What I'd LIKE to do is keep this under wraps until we get home to London. We have all the pieces in place over there to keep things sane. Do you think we could do that?"

There's a grunt of agreement, "Maybe, if we're really lucky..maybe. I assume you won't keep your distance from her until then?"

Ben's voice has dropped low and there's a tight edge to it, "I'd appreciate you starting to use her name, Karon."

There's silence for a moment and he adds, "....seriously Karon....don't push me on this."

Another pause before Karon's voice breaks the silence, "Sorry Ben. You know how I get in crisis mode. I'm happy for you..for you both..just..."

"Don't say it.." the lightness is back in his tone.

"Three days?" There's a note of humour under the statement now and you breathe a sigh of relief that the tension is broken.

The door opens and Karon gestures to you, "Come on....you're part of this, come in and join the council of war. I've had my moment now....I won't bite."

You sheepishly walk through the door she's holding open, taking a seat next to Ben on the couch.

You've heard about Karon. Her easy professionalism and her effortless handling of one of the more challenging portfolios in the PR world. Having seen the diversity Ben's displayed in the last few days...THREE DAYS..you don't envy her job.

She paces in front of you both, clearly working through options in her head.

"OK....see how this sounds to you both. You fly up on the same plane on Friday. Ben has to sit next to someone on the plane, it may as well be accidentally you. Take separate cars to the hotel, in case the media is at the airport. Ben, you have a pretty full calendar tomorrow afternoon so why don't I take Belinda shopping and we can buy her some stuff for London. It'll also give us a chance to have some girl-time so I can tell her all your bad habits and try to scare her off." She winks at you with a cheeky grin.

She continues, "You already have dinner booked at The Bentley on Friday night, so Belinda can take my seat and I'll cancel the others who were supposed to dine with you. Then, separate cars back to the hotel for you love birds to have some down-time."

"Who will we be offending on Friday?" Ben asks.

"Nobody as important as getting you two some time together, you'll need to get it out of your system so you can put on a good act on Saturday. I know you Ben, If I don't allow you some hands-on time, you'll be puppy-dog eyes and wandering hands on Saturday and that won't work for us."

He laughs, "Yes...I mentioned I was obvious."

Karon looks at you but she's smiling warmly, "Obvious doesn't even begin to describe it. Wears his heart on his sleeve...in a good way."

You nod and lean against him, rubbing your head on his shoulder, "I know."

"OK..Saturday. I think this is where we drop a couple of very subtle hints. When the media look back, we want them to be able to find your face in photos. Create an origin story for you. So..." she looks at you, "....you're going to the VIP event. Ten minutes at a table of ten fans to meet your elusive idol. Then, enjoy your day, feel free to get things signed, photos taken. Join the crowd and be a fan."

"Are you sure having her there is the right idea?"

"Very sure. For the purpose of the media...you will have happened to have been sitting next to each other on the plane, met again on Saturday and it all rolls from there."

You lean to Ben and whisper, "She's a genius!"

She's standing in front of you both, "And that my dear..is why he pays me the big bucks. Saturday night we'll review how the day went, make changes for Sunday depending on how things are going. But Saturday night...you'll eat in. Ben, you know you'll be exhausted anyway. I'm afraid, my dear, you'll be on hand massages most of the night."

"Hand massages?"

"Four hours of signings.....trust me...hand massages."

"Monday either one or both of you will fly back to Melbourne to sort out your travel plans."

"I want to go with her..."

"I know you do sweetie, but I can't guarantee yet that you'll be able to....if it helps, my default plan is that you'll be together from the end of the con onwards."

There's silence in the room as each of you think about the plans. It seems good, solid..it might just work.

But there's a gap, "What abut the rest of today? What do we do today."

Karon smiles, "Today, my dear...I have a suite booked upstairs for you both. Go....snuggle...do embarrassingly intimate things to one another and be in love. Class dismissed." She hands you a key card and winks at Ben before leaving the room.


	8. Opening the toy chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovers need a bit of time together before they face the media storm of Sydney. Benedict's team leave them a little present to help them out.

Ben checks the room card and leads you up Crown Towers. You've never been but you hear the views are superb. The elevator rings at level 26 and you wander down the sparsely populated floor. The doors seem unusually far apart and you suspect you're on a 'suite-only' floor.

Ben slides the card into the electronic lock and opens the double doors. He chuckles with amusement, "Somebody loves you, I never get a room this good when I'm on my own."

You see what he means, the suite is huge, with panoramic windows encircling all walls. The view of Melbourne and its surrounds is breathtaking and you find yourself standing by the windows, picking out landmarks in your head.

"Tell me about your city" he whispers over your shoulder, "I never see this as anything but a guest."

You take his hand and stretch his arm over your shoulder, pointing out fixtures that have been part of your life since childhood. To the North, the Exhibition buildings; to the east, the Botanical gardens and far beyond the Dandenong ranges tower, swathed in gum-tree green. Turning to the south, the broad vista of Port Philip Bay stretches, with Albert Park Lake a kidney shaped puddle far below you. Lastly, you turn West, pointing toward home and murmur, "and over there, if you squint, you can see the cafe where I met the man who changed my life."

He kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around you from behind as you lean into his warm strength. You're nervous about tomorrow, and about every day that will follow it but you think that together, and with the help of people like Karon, you might just make it through.

"You OK?" he whispers.

"Yeah, just lost on my own head."

You turn from the window and catch sight of a large basket on the coffee table. It's wrapped in cellophane and tied with an enormous red bow. The card, which Ben hands you says simply, "Take the edge off, have fun. Love Karon and the team." and bears a tiny picture of a devil with horns.

As you finish reading, Ben's laughing out loud, having opened the gift. You peer around him and are confronted with a truly bewildering array of sex toys. Some have obvious purpose, others are not quite so clear. Trying in vain to stifle his laughter Ben shakes his head, I love when my team surprise me. I would never have expected this of Karon."

"Really? She's never done something like this before?"

"To give her credit, there's never been a situation like this before. I'm not known for my playboy ways."

"Not unless you've hid it well from the media."

"No. As I said, what you see is what you get....I've never been caught up in the Hollywood carousel."

You nod and smile, "Good....I'd hate to run into a string of past conquests."

"Not much chance of that."

Putting the rather intimidating basket to one side, you sit and talk about the plans for the weekend, Ben's commitments before, during and after the convention, and get a clearer idea of how his _normal_ life works. Although it's clear his schedule is full, and he makes no secret that his work often demands he become absorbed in the roles he plays, he ensures you understand that he desperately wants you to not only be _with_ him, but be _part_ of his life. His confidence is infectious and his commitment is reassuring.

The afternoon progresses quietly, tucked away almost domestically in one of the most lavish suites in Melbourne, both of you wrapped in thick robes. It isn't about where you are, it's about who you're with and you suspect that will become a mantra for the weeks ahead.

Suddenly it seems the lights of Melbourne are starting to twinkle through the windows through the gathering gloom and you watch in renewed wonder as they reflect and sparkle in his changeable eyes. You glance at the basket and while ben is ordering room service, you start to fossick through the contents.

When he returns, he grins at your bemused face, "Let's play a game."

"Mmmm?"

"I challenge you to a quiz. I think we should go through the basket, and the person that can identify most items.. _AND_ their uses...gets first pick of what we use."

You blanch, wondering how a simple woman from Australia could possibly compete before shrugging, "I suppose we both win in the long run...you're on."

You quickly check off the more common items; condoms, lubricant (flavoured and unflavoured), a rather terrifying vibrator that for some unknown reason, lights up. There's also less common yet obvious inclusions; an anal plug (which makes you blush), a ball gag, and a leather collar with studs.

The basket is more than half empty before you strike the first of the more unusual items, "OK" you admit, "I'm pretty sure I know what this IS...but to be honest, I don't know what it's for." You hold up a contraption which looks for all the world like a tiny jail cell for a penis.

Ben smiles, not a hint of redness in his cheeks, "It's exactly what it looks like, a cock-cage."

You turn it over slowly in your hands, " _WHY_???"

"It's used in Bondage....BDSM. It's all about erection denial. Never used one...and unless you're particularly interested, I rather doubt 'denial' is on our menu tonight."

You snigger, putting it aside, "One to you. Your choice."

He rifles through the basket and produces an odd U-shaped device, pink, which vibrates when he turns it on, "OK...exactly _where_ does this go?"

You take it gently from him, "Well.....it's a vibrator."

"Obviously. I got that far."

You aren't as resilient as Benedict, and you feel the colour rising to your cheeks."It's..umm...to be used during sex."

He's leaning forward, and you suspect, thoroughly enjoying your embarrassment.

"You put one end in....side." You make awkward curled finger motions, "and the other end on your clitoris."

He looks thoughtful for a moment, as if figuring out the mechanics before enlightenment clears his features, "Ohhhhhh....and does it.....work?"

"I'd expect it would...yes. Practical knowledge..zero I'm afraid. One to me."

"We'll just...put that to one side for later consideration..." he places it gently to one side and pats it fondly, "Your turn."

You hold up what look like tiny jumper cables, joined by a delicate silver chain, "Nipple clamps?"

"Nipple clamps."

"Cock ring?"

"Cock ring."

"Oh...my god!"

He cranes his neck trying to see.

"I've heard about these but never seen one", you continue.

"What?"

You hold up a pink tubular item. It flops slightly in your hand. One end has a suction cup on it, the other contains a lined hole.

"What the hell!" Ben exclaims as you turn it over in your hands wonderingly.

"It's a Fleshlight!" You giggle furiously, "Oh my God, I'm playing with a Fleshlight with Benedict Cumberbatch. Here...have a look" You toss it to him and he catches it reflexively before dropping it.

"It's a what-now?"

You move from the chair you'd been sitting on over next to him on the couch, picking it up again, still snorting like a teenager caught with porn. "Look...let me...explain it to you." You lift it up and cradle it in your hand, "This end..." you gesture at the suction cup, "...attaches to the wall of your shower."

He nods.

" _This_ end..." and you slowly and suggestively sink your finger into the waiting hole, "Needs something _else_ stuck in it." You make eye contact and wait....one...two....his eyes widen and then he blushes.

"Ohhhhhh......you mean..this..." he grabs your unoccupied hand and moves it to his crotch, "...goes in there."

You both collapse into helpless laughter, the toys forgotten as you gasp for breath as well as each other. Your hand is still at his crotch and as you rub playfully, you feel his hands pulling your shirt out of your jeans.

He mutters, "What do we have in there that's waterproof?" as he lifts your shirt over your head and fiddles with your bra.

"The pink vibrator is...." You gasp back, working at his buttons as the laughter turns to passion. "...Why?"

"You'll see...grab it and come on." He rises from the couch, casually adjusts his own jeans and strides toward the bathroom. As you grab the vibrator and follow, you hear the sound of water flowing.

Walking through the bathroom door, you don't know where to look first. Ben has shed his jeans and stands with his back to you. The urge to step closer and trace a line down his back toward his firm arse is temporarily displaced as you catch sight of the bath.

"God....we have a freakin' _pool_ in our room."

"It's a jacuzzi.....but I get your point." He turns toward you and you doubt you'll ever get tired of looking at him nude. He's magnificently self-assured in his nakedness and it lends him an air of casual grace that makes your heart skip.

"It's enormous!"

He smirks, "Nice of you to say, but I'm really not much bigger than average."

"Not you....you arrogant git....the bath!" You throw a towel at him.

He grabs at you and you go willingly, shucking your jeans and pants as you go. He lifts you and drops you in the water. You surface and splash him as he climbs in, crowding you against the side and turning off the water.

"I always try to get a room with a spa. It's always a pleasure and on some jobs, a necessity."

"I assume tonight is pleasure?"

"All pleasure tonight." He retrieves the bath gel and uses it to smooth a path over your breasts as he kisses you. The smell of spearmint fills the room as you slip against each other in the water. You can feel him hard against you. You've never made love in the water, but there's a first time for everything and you'll be damned if you're not going to give it your best.

There's suddenly an odd deep thrumming noise from the water and from nowhere, Ben produces the U-shaped vibrator, it's pitch rising as it breaks the surface, "You game?"

"Oh God yes.....let's play."

He finds his way with his fingers first, smiling at finding you slippery in spite of the water. You arch against him as he spreads your outer, then inner lips, rocking against him as he explores by touch alone.

"You know I don't need that thing...right?" you arch against him again.

"MmmmHmm...I know." He murmurs against your neck, nuzzling where the water laps against your skin, "Still want to try it?"

You nod shakily, "With you? Yes....I want to try everything with you."

He gently inserts one end and you moan as it moulds against you, inside and out. It's off at the moment, but already the pressure is exquisite.

"Want you too..." You gasp.

"You sure?" He asks, slightly concerned but neediness clear in his voice.

"It's....." you wriggle against the feeling, wanting more, "...how they're designed.....for use together."

"Oh..." he says wonderingly, "That's......" he ruts against you, before sliding up your body, positioning himself between your legs and finding purchase against to opposite wall. "That's very thoughtful of the manufacturer."

You feel him fill you and you both groan at the sensation, slightly tighter than before as a result of the extra device. You reach down between you and flick the tiny switch, spasming as the initial shock of movement jolts through you.

Ben has gone still, and you can hear his laboured breathing by your ear.

"You OK?" you whisper....almost lost in your own pleasure.

"Yeah....yeah..just.... _God_...that's fucking good...almost too good...Just....a sec." He pulls a long slow breath and the grip on your arm relaxes a little as he gets use to the odd sensation.

"Better?"

"Oh yeah.....better....better than better. Vibrators....women have all the fun...who knew?"

You giggle and then shift against him, gasping as the device rubs against you. "Oh _Christ_..." The tingles shoot up your spine and you move again to repeat the sensation. "You might want to pick up the pace love, or I'm going to leave you behind."

"Can't have that now..." He thrusts and you both moan again, "..God..this is nuts."

You hold him to you, alternately rocking and thrusting as you each use the device between you to push you higher. You can't hold back any longer and you arch and feel your muscles clench around him, forcing the device inside you to press against the length of him. With a harsh curse he jerks against you, both losing himself to climax and oversensitive to the ongoing stimulation. You have enough conscious thought to reach down and flick the switch to 'off' before your arms give way and you laze in the water beneath him.

He's holding you to him and chuckling again, "You and I seem to forever end up having sex in places where it's terribly messy afterward."

You can't be bothered being concerned about clean-up, "Yeah...we do....great, isn't it?"

"Brilliant."


	9. Flying High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for our love-birds to make the trip to Sydney. Can they keep their hands off each other during the quick flight....I very much doubt it.

Friday passes in a bustle of activity. An old hand at preparations, Ben barely blinks as a series of parcels, papers and luggage mysteriously appear at the door of your suite. He calmly signs for things, checks others, makes notes and answers phone calls as the daily business of his life reasserts itself. You watch him in wonder as the professional actor subsumes the laid back holiday-maker you've come to know. Although absorbed in the business of his responsibilities, his gaze is never far from you and you smile and nod easily as the pieces fall into place.

Sandwiches arrive at 11:00am and you share a relaxed lunch as he goes through the finer details. Everything that Karon has planned seems to be in place and Ben carries an air of quiet confidence that's as infectious as his smile.

At 1pm there's a knock on the door and Ben checks his pockets before stating , "Show time" and opening the door to a smiling Karon.

"You two ready?"

"Yep. Time to make a move."

She nods and addresses Ben, "There's two cars downstairs, one for each of you. Once she's away, we'll send you down. There's probably two dozen fans down there, so we have about fifteen minutes of signing before you high-tail it to the airport. Sydney will be the reverse, we'll get you off first, distract the fans with your ego holding a pen," she grins, "and smuggle your lovely lady away."

He smiles back, "But we're together on the plane?"

"All the way. But try not to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities in first class, Qantas looks after us pretty well."

"Cross my heart....they won't hear a sound." He winks lasciviously.

She rolls her eyes and looks to you, "Ready?"

You take a deep breath. It feels like you're jumping off a cliff, but you know this is the right decision. You've never been more sure. "Yes. I'm completely in your hands."

She looks back to Ben, "See! See, that's what you're supposed to say....'Karon, I trust you utterly and will follow your instructions'....take lessons from her, will you?"

You snort as she checks the hallway and ushers you to the lift, "Relax, nobody's looking for you. You're just any old person taking a trip to the UK via Sydney. Have fun and we'll see you when you're settled. Remember, we're going shopping."

True to her word, the transition to the airport is seamless. Travelling domestic and First Class on your Australian passport there's barely a glance as you proceed through the various gates and as you settle into your seat a glass of champagne is handed to you while they prepare for take-off. Ben's carry-on appears and is stowed above his chair by a steward well before he makes an appearance, finally he strolls up and settles next to you and makes a show of shaking your hand and asking your name.

The whine of engines kicks in shortly afterward and he asks politely if you're a seasoned flyer, and your planned destination.

You launch into your preplanned speech, giggling shyly and admitting that you're actually heading to Sydney to see him at Comicon and you share a laugh. That's the opening for the dialogue to proceed into territory safe for anyone listening in and you talk for a while about his latest roles, plans for the upcoming months and his career.  
He's relaxed and animated, and yet you can see him keeping a watchful eye on those surrounding you, checking for anyone taking an interest in your conversation. He gives you a surreptitious thumbs up as a light meal is served which is the agreed signal that all is well.

Once the seatbelt light goes off and the plates are cleared he leans in and whispers, "I'm heading to the toilet. Count to 60 and follow me."

Your eyes widen, you'd been sure he was joking about the mile high club, but it appears that once set on a course, particularly if it involves sex, then he's determined to see the challenge through no matter how crazy.

He meets your eyes, checking if you'll join him on this fools escapade and they sparkle wickedly as you grin and nod. Suppressing a smile, he heads down the cabin toward the First Class toilet.

You try to steady your breathing as you slowly count to 60. Business passengers around you read reports and type diligently on their laptops, none sparing a glance at the retreating form of your partner. 10....he disappears through the narrow door, throwing a glance back at you as he does so. 20....you unobtrusively divest yourself of your panties, tucking them in your jacket pocket. 30...you glance around, nothing has changed. 40....The stewards are talking quietly at the far end of the cabin, away from your destination.50......you unclip your seatbelt and draw a calming breath. 60...you stand and walk quietly to the end of the aisle and push the door open and squeeze inside.

"This is insane!" You're jammed up against him with the door at your back and you can already feel his excitement pressed into your lower abdomen.

"I know.....Fuck I want you, even if I haven't quite worked out how I'm going to manage to have you in here." He looks over his shoulder at the tiny vanity and the toilet (too low to be truly useful).

You giggle softly, "Beaten, Batch? I didn't think you'd be defeated so easily." You rub against him and begin rucking up your skirt.

He groans at the pressure and manages to undo his button and flies in the tight space. There's some awkwardness as he's trying to push the fabric down while you're trying to pull yours up and in the end you're stifling chuckles against each other's neck and chest. Finally, there's enough skin exposed to at least make you think you may have half a chance.

"Here...let me try this." You lift a foot and place it on the closed toilet lid behind him, using the leverage to scoot up the closed door at your back and curl your other leg around him. There's an appallingly loud rattle from the hinges of the door and you both freeze for a moment waiting to be discovered.

Ben places a finger, shaking with mirth against his lips and dramatically shushes you as he tries not to laugh out loud. The adrenaline of the situation is making you both a little drunk on excitement.

Hooking an arm around his neck, you wiggle further up and slot your pelvises together. There's a gasp of pleasure from him and he lowers his hands to support your arse, lifting you higher still. For a giddy moment, you think this might work.

"Do you EVER wear underwear?" He groans into your mouth as you're lowered down onto him and he sinks into you with a sigh of pleasure.

"Around you....It hardly seems worth it." You manage, between the leverage of your arms and his hands, to lift yourself up and settle again, luxuriating in the feeling of him solid and hot inside you.

He chuckles again, "So smart.....sexy.....beautiful..and smart." Tilting his hips you can feel the slight tremor in his thighs as he supports your full weight. He tightens his fingers on your arse, "I'd love to make this last all day, but...."

You suck gently on his neck, "Not really feasible....I get it. I'm all yours love, knock yourself out." You grip more firmly around his shoulders, taking more of the weight from his hands and allowing him to move you more easily.

"God I love you." he pulls you to him hard and fast, driving into you again and again. You didn't think you'd be able to come like this but you think you might be wrong. You bite a little too firmly on his neck and he hisses and removes a hand from your arse suddenly, trying desperately to tug your face away while still thrusting into you, "Don't....don't mark me....media....will see."

You bit your lip in understanding and mutter, "Sorry...sorry, love." as you scrabble to find purchase on the sink...the toilet, anywhere that will allow the delicious movements to continue.

" _Christ_...no...I want you to....God....want it...but....can't...just..not yet...not yet...." He fists his hand in your hair, pressing your head back to his neck, obviously conflicted between his rational and sexual needs. His pace is becoming more erratic, but the trembling in his legs is worsening.

Showing him you understand rather than telling him, you instead lick a long stripe along his neck, and he shudders and keens softly as he fills you, and the sound is all you needed to push you over the brink, you grit your teeth hard and gasp against his skin as the fingers in your hair shift to brace himself against a wall, his legs threatening to give out on him.

You stand awkwardly, him wedged against one wall and you almost perched on the sink, not knowing quite how you got into this position as you pant together and grin like naughty school children. For once, he's had the good sense to pull a pile of tissues out of the holder and he grabs them to undertake a hasty clean-up, although there's bumped elbows and knees as you manage it.

He laughs softly, his nose crinkling as he almost doubles over in silent hysterics, his broad hands using your shoulder for support as he tries to rub some feeling back into his thighs. "Insane....we're insane. God I'm happy." He looks up at you from his vantage point, disrupted curls hanging on his forehead, "Karon would kill us."

You snort, "Probably, although I suspect she may have factored something like this into her plan."

"What..... _Benedict gets caught shagging on the plane..implement plan 14_...you think so?"

You nod.

"Then let's spare her the need to enact it. Off you go, back to your seat. I'll be along shortly." He slaps you on the arse, as well as he can given the space, and you struggle out and back down the aisle. Nobody even glances up.

Half an hour later, the captain calls final descent and you clip your seatbelt in place while the plane lands. Ben grabs his bag and heads to the exit and you follow the agreed three minutes after. As you're exiting the plane, the steward quietly pulls you aside with a tap on your shoulder. You expect him to wish you a good journey when instead he leans in close and murmurs, "I think these may be your ma'am", before pressing your panties discretely into your hand.

You look at the scrap of fabric and then up at his face as you blush furiously. He nods, smiles...and thanks you for flying Qantas as you walk stunned down the gangway.


	10. The Final Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of our journey, back where it began at the Sydney Meet and Greet. Benedict's plans to wait until London to expose the relationship go awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read this and left Kudos. I appreciate it all. I'd love you to leave comments on how this story played out and whether you'd like to see more of the same.
> 
> I'd particularly like to thank 'ATokenATrifle' for her support and beta services. Go read her fics, she's great!

The remainder of Friday passed in a blur. Three hours of shopping with Karon stretched to five, and she cheerfully signed invoices for everything from shoes, to evening-wear, to winter coats and tasteful jewellery. It all went in the ever increasing pile of bags as you chatted amiably and found your feet with one of Benedict's most trusted advisors.

After her initial hesitation, Karon seemed to warm to you quickly. There was a witty sense of humour lurking under the professional facade and unsurprisingly, her long history with Ben had provided her with an endless supply of stories he would no doubt cringe at her sharing with you.

"There was this time in...ohhh...it must have been early 2010, he was filming Third Star and the beach was SO cold. Really unbelievable. Anyway, the boys were larking about on the sand and JJ....he played Miles, tackles Ben and before you know it, his swimming trunks are gone and JJ's half way up the beach."

You snort, imagining the scene.

"Anyway, Ben's there on the ground, arse in the sand and a hush falls on the crew. JJ's half way to Cardiff by this stage, or so it seems, waving the blue trunks like a trophy until Ben calmly stands up, naked to the biting breeze, spreads his arms wide points at his Crown Jewels and shouts ' _Yeah...laugh it up.....even naked in the cold I'm a bigger man than you!'_

You both laugh uproariously until you notice the number of heads that have turned to stare at the two out of control ladies snacking on coffee and cake.

She drops you back at the hotel, assuring you that your new clothes will be packed and shipped to meet you in London. All except the coat which she'll ensure you have for your arrival. You thank her and exchange a brief hug. There's a feeling of genuine warmth, and you hold tight to her earlier description that you are now 'part of the family'.

@@@@

Dinner at The Bentley is similarly a surreal event. You and Ben have been tucked away in a quiet back corner, and although the lack of windows robs you of the view, the anonymity is a pleasant relief. You'd been worried that such a public venue was a risk to your plans. When you arrive back at the hotel near midnight, the long days and longer nights are finally catching up with you and you only vaguely remember being tucked up in clean sheets by warm strong hands before there's a gentle kiss on your forehead, loving words and you are left in your room alone.

@@@@

And so you find yourself sitting at a table of fans, watching as the man you've fallen in love with move in a graceful dance from table to table. You try not to stare, until you realise that every set of eyes in the room are pinned on him. With a wry smile, you concede that NOT staring would be more noticeable.

So you permit yourself. You watch him talk animatedly, hearing snatches of his deep baritone carrying through the room, often followed by girlish laughter from those at the tables. You watch those expressive hands punctuate his statements and smile knowingly at how they feel caressing your skin. You watch as his eyes often flick up, scanning the room, finding and locking with yours, checking-in, reassuring and then returning to his work.

Eventually, he slips into a chair at your table. He greets those seated warmly, granting each a moment of focus and you grin a little at the quavering shake in their voices as they reply. You'd been the same less than a week ago and even now, with him in full media mode, the effect is much the same. He answers questions thoughtfully, cheekily and with gentle humour. He's swearing quite a bit, which his fans seem to love almost as much as the fact that he's clearly starting to feel the effects of sharing a glass of wine at each and every table. There's a touch of his lisp creeping into the slurred answers but it's adorable and you suspect he'd be forgiven almost anything by the people in the room.

Karon is checking her watch and you surreptitiously do the same. He needs to be out of here in fifteen minutes if he's to hit his next mark. You do Karon a favour and glance pointedly at your watch when he next makes eye contact. He nods and rises from the table, the last stop in the room.

He begins to turn away and stops. Turning back, you note the crease of a thoughtful frown as he looks long and hard at you and then up at Karon. The frown changes to a question as they share a moment and he mouths ' _can I?_ '. She glances at you and back to him, shrugs and mouths back _'OK_ ' before smiling.

He lays a large hand on the two people sitting either side of his now vacant chair and they startle as he applies slight pressure to steady him as he climbs first onto the chair, and then onto the table. Every eye in the room is now turned to him as Karon quietly checks the doors to the room are closed.

"Excuse me....excuse me...can I have a little hush please...Important person attracting attention over here." he begins

There's scattered laughter at the joke, falling quiet in anticipation.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming here today. This is the first Meet and Greet I've done and I've enjoyed it immensely. I don't often get to chat one-on-one like this and after this experience, I'll be making sure I do more. You guys have been terrific. So, I'd like to ask you all one last favour."

You're looking up, at his arse actually as he's standing with his back to you, facing the room. You wonder what he has planned when you notice Karon has quietly slipped up to stand close behind you.

"I know I asked when we all sat down to keep what we talk about here just for yourselves. I'm not in this room for the media, and I want to thank you all for letting me be so honest and open with you, knowing I won't see this in the papers tomorrow."

There's a smattering of applause and he gestures for them to settle down.

"So I'm going to ask one more thing from you. There's something on my mind that I desperately want to share with someone," He looks around the room, "or..in this case...around fifty someones, but that I don't want the media to hear about until I'm home in 'jolly old England'."

Oh my God!

"Something unexpected has happened in the last little while and I'm hoping you'll all be happy for me. In the privacy of this room, I'd like to let you all know...."Ben takes a deep steadying breath, "...relationship-wise....I'm off the market."

There a couple of gasps from around the tables before a pensive silence falls. This reveal can go one of several ways. The Cumber-fans are a pretty mature group, and you're sure Ben has taken the mood of the room into account before making his announcement. Still....there'll be the sound of breaking hearts at a couple of tables.

He waits silently, not rushing for a response. He's handed control over now and it's up to the room to pass judgement. You start counting the seconds in your head.

Then, there is the sound of a single pair of hands, clapping slowly. You look across the room, around Ben's legs to see one of the fans on her feet, smiling up at him and applauding. The woman next to her joins her and suddenly there is half a dozen applauding and smiling...then twenty, then more tables until the entire room is standing and clapping. Belatedly, when Karon nudges you, you realise that the only person still seated and silent...is you, and you stand.

Karon tugs gently on Ben's trouser leg and he turns to look down at your grinning faces. Karon nods and he reaches down a hand to you. Hesitatingly, you take it as he pulls you up using your chair as the step until you stand beside him. The clapping rises in volume as his arm circles your waist and pulls you to his side. There's cheering and whooping as only Australian fans seem to be able to manage and you can feel enthusiastically supportive fans from your table patting your legs in congratulations.

Ben holds up a hand and the noise quietens down, "I'd quite like you to meet her, and if you can keep it clean," he winks wickedly, "I'll answer a few more questions.....but first...."

He looks at you, eyes clear and sparkling. The tension is gone from his face and you know this has been a litmus test for the reaction of all his fans. To know they genuinely seek his happiness, with whomever he chooses, is a salve to his soul and he turns to face you. Leaning in he whispers, "I love you" before he presses his lips to yours and gathers you to him in a dramatic, wholehearted kiss for the public.

FIN


End file.
